Your erotic stories

I love how today's older people complain that today's generation are all sluts. I mean, we are, but so were our parents and presumably our grandparents (although I'm not a big fan of thinking of grandma being a slut back in the day). The point is, although I wasn't a slut who fucked just anybody, I was very cock hungry when I was eighteen as was my best friend Kelly...although she was more of a fuck em' and leave them sort of gal.

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December 3, 1997 He stood just shy of six foot, medium build, brown hair and brown eyes. His clothes were similarly, well, average. But the way he moved wasn't. It was feral, stealthy.....like a beast on the prowl for food....or a man on the scent of a woman. Taking a second, more thorough look, Savannah observed how his jeans fitted him snugly, drawing attention to well toned thigh and calf muscles, and a tight ass. His loose button-up shirt hinted at a smooth, sculpted chest.

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Carla has visited my NYC office on many occasions. She is a product manager for one of the lines of formal female dress shoes my stores and consignment partners carry. Once she had a late flight and had to check out by noon from her hotel. I let her put her luggage in my storeroom and offered to make her dinner at my week-day apartment just around the corner. She felt safe with that. I'm twelve years older; we have a working relationship to protect; we had little time before her flight and I had no plans to take advantage of her.

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A muttered curse bounced off the interior walls of the SUV. Gail Steelport took a deep breath, hit the steering wheel of her 2000 Suburban, and let another vile explanative fall from her usually smiling lips. The gauge didn't lie, and neither did the sound of an engine trying to turn over, but failing to do so. Gail looked around; her headlights aided her in determining that she had pulled off to the side of the road, far enough that no one -- who was paying attention -- would run into her. Rain pelted the window, as Gail dug through her purse.

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My boss, Mr. Adams, calls me a nanny. He's pretty old school about things so I just let it go. I prefer the term, au pair, because it sounds so much more exotic and important. Mrs. Adams is probably the one who has the best grip on reality. She just calls me her "help." I started working for the Adams' to help pay my way through business college. Then about three months into a graphics designer degree, I decided, "Fuck it."

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It truly was a day to remember. I stepped out onto my pool deck that Saturday afternoon, aiming to bring the water up to the proper level and check the chemical balance. Three neighborhood couples would be at our home that evening to share my locally-famous smoked ribs. I wanted the pool to be crystal clear in case we decided to swim too.

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"Just look at the view from this place!" screamed the excited new associate. The balcony at the Metropolitan Theatre overlooked the multitude of rows of patrons shuffling to their seats, getting ready for the show to begin. "Get used to it," said Heather Franklin. "We're in the big league now." "And to think we're barely starting out at the firm," said her animated friend. "Did you see the signing bonus? It's more than everyone at our old place made put together."

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"Give it up Monica," Carla complained! "He's practicing his bah humbug routine early...no way is he going to tell us what he wants to be for Halloween!" True; but then, that sure didn't excuse her dragging Monica off my lap. And she did it just as Monica started to whisper something in my ear too. That wasn't the worst of it either; oh no, the darling flirt had finally let my hands push up under her sweatshirt! So my hands were sliding over the taught, feathery soft skin of Monica's belly; when, timing her tease to perfection, Carla had pulled her off my lap.

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My wife Angie and I have been married for seven years and despite having had two children Angie had kept her figure, she was a slim 34 year old woman with long blond hair and small to average, but beautifully formed breasts. We have had a good but not very adventurous love life. Angie would give me oral sex, usually while I was returning the favour but never allowed me to cum in her mouth. We had discussed anal sex but she had considered it too painful and dirty.

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I was on my stomach. My tongue nestled in Georgie's ass crack as she also lay on her stomach on the bed in front of me. She was sucking Chas's cock – her husband. Behind her, I was slowly moistening her anus, in preparation for what I was about to give her. Around my waist was my new blue jelly dong, complete with the strap on attachment that would allow me to fuck my best friend in the ass.

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